Trauma “alien/snowflake”/Spanking trauma

I figured I’d start writing on here to get rid of any feelings that I hold on to through the day. I’m tired of ruminating in silence about it ever since my last post/talking to others about it on other anonymous sites. I have a therapist but don’t talk to her about this even though it’s the one thing that I constantly struggle with. I will probably talk about it with her next session. (I’ve had therapist that I disclosed this with and was met with empathy and understanding but part of me believes that deep down they think I’m being silly, overreacting, or anything else negative and I usually change therapists from embarrassment and shame.
I called it trauma alien/snowflake because I don’t think very many people can relate to my trauma and have felt alone and ashamed anytime I talk about it with someone anonymously due to 50% of the reactions outright denying I have trauma from it or suggesting something is wrong with me since I have this trauma. I’m tearing up while posting this because I feel completely alone and defected.
I am now getting over being triggered from witnessing a kid being hit on the clothes bum about 3 times in public. My body literally wants to run away form me as I write this. I wish people didn’t discipline there kids in public - it can be traumatizing to kids and re-traumatizing to anyone else also in public.
I will no doubt say that what I experienced drastically shifted my development as a child. I was spanked bare bum by my dad for any infraction that he believed warranted starting at the age of 3 or 4. It was not 1-2 slaps like most people think but it was also no more that 10-15 each time. There was one time where I think it lasted longer than that. I have flashed memory on it and am not sure if it was real. I’m not sure if it was the amount of times it happened but by the time I was 5 I realized I liked pain. And I began hitting myself - with objects to make sure it was quiet enough for no one to hear. I usually did this with music or the tv turned up. It literally disgusts me that I paired pain and pleasure together at an early age. I feel gross and I never wanted this to happen. Witnessing anyone being smacked more than once triggers unwanted ..feelings and it feels as if I’m being violated.
By the time I was 5 I felt that my body didn’t belong to me. I was self conscious about anyone looking at my bum even with clothes on. This was something that didn’t go away and I believe it was my development shifting. No one should think about spanking as much as I did - fear of getting spanked and sometimes obsession of getting spanked. I literally feel disgusted writing this. I don’t understand why this hasn’t been outlawed yet and it alarms me the people who outright support it. I know there are websites where victims talk about how it caused fetish to develop and those websites make me feel less alone and alien. I just hate that this happened to me. I don’t want to get into too much right now about how I didn’t realize I started reading spanking porn stories or pictures at the age of 11/12 - I just thought they were innocent stories and pictures and couldn’t figure out why I started feeling ..weird”. Once I became ashamed enough of my bdsm intrigue I shut it out all together in my college years.
But that’s enough for now. Writing this was all over the place. Since seeing that kid hit I’ve been depressed, sad, and crying (mourning my childhood). I have snapped at my friend and sent them away from me as an attempt to release the angry feelings I’ve had but it didn’t work. I’ve ruminated on my childhood and the thoughts just keep coming. I figured an entry here might help.. I’ll write more soon, the entries may or may not be unrelated. I also can’t bring myself to re-read what I wrote for today.
 

grief

Sponsor
It literally disgusts me that I paired pain and pleasure together at an early age. I feel gross and I never wanted this to happen.
this response is very normal. your brain was protecting you as best as it could by attempting to pair the unwanted stimulus with pleasure instead of agony. very common, very normal. not disgusting. this was a very brave start to your diary and i am glad you have begun to detail some of this out. it does get easier with time. and there are many people here who do understand your feelings.
 

Toren

Learning
I figured I’d start writing on here to get rid of any feelings that I hold on to through the day. I’m tired of ruminating in silence about it ever since my last post/talking to others about it on other anonymous sites. I have a therapist but don’t talk to her about this even though it’s the one thing that I constantly struggle with. I will probably talk about it with her next session. (I’ve had therapist that I disclosed this with and was met with empathy and understanding but part of me believes that deep down they think I’m being silly, overreacting, or anything else negative and I usually change therapists from embarrassment and shame.
I called it trauma alien/snowflake because I don’t think very many people can relate to my trauma and have felt alone and ashamed anytime I talk about it with someone anonymously due to 50% of the reactions outright denying I have trauma from it or suggesting something is wrong with me since I have this trauma. I’m tearing up while posting this because I feel completely alone and defected.
I am now getting over being triggered from witnessing a kid being hit on the clothes bum about 3 times in public. My body literally wants to run away form me as I write this. I wish people didn’t discipline there kids in public - it can be traumatizing to kids and re-traumatizing to anyone else also in public.
I will no doubt say that what I experienced drastically shifted my development as a child. I was spanked bare bum by my dad for any infraction that he believed warranted starting at the age of 3 or 4. It was not 1-2 slaps like most people think but it was also no more that 10-15 each time. There was one time where I think it lasted longer than that. I have flashed memory on it and am not sure if it was real. I’m not sure if it was the amount of times it happened but by the time I was 5 I realized I liked pain. And I began hitting myself - with objects to make sure it was quiet enough for no one to hear. I usually did this with music or the tv turned up. It literally disgusts me that I paired pain and pleasure together at an early age. I feel gross and I never wanted this to happen. Witnessing anyone being smacked more than once triggers unwanted ..feelings and it feels as if I’m being violated.
By the time I was 5 I felt that my body didn’t belong to me. I was self conscious about anyone looking at my bum even with clothes on. This was something that didn’t go away and I believe it was my development shifting. No one should think about spanking as much as I did - fear of getting spanked and sometimes obsession of getting spanked. I literally feel disgusted writing this. I don’t understand why this hasn’t been outlawed yet and it alarms me the people who outright support it. I know there are websites where victims talk about how it caused fetish to develop and those websites make me feel less alone and alien. I just hate that this happened to me. I don’t want to get into too much right now about how I didn’t realize I started reading spanking porn stories or pictures at the age of 11/12 - I just thought they were innocent stories and pictures and couldn’t figure out why I started feeling ..weird”. Once I became ashamed enough of my bdsm intrigue I shut it out all together in my college years.
But that’s enough for now. Writing this was all over the place. Since seeing that kid hit I’ve been depressed, sad, and crying (mourning my childhood). I have snapped at my friend and sent them away from me as an attempt to release the angry feelings I’ve had but it didn’t work. I’ve ruminated on my childhood and the thoughts just keep coming. I figured an entry here might help.. I’ll write more soon, the entries may or may not be unrelated. I also can’t bring myself to re-read what I wrote for today.
I understand this and that overwhelming feeling of being alone and defective. You are neither. Definitely not alone
 
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